Friday, July 4, 2014

F3 Fireworks

“I still do
not know how you talked me into this,” Nikki said.

The waters
of Badon Bay were perfect this time of year, and we sat halfway between Larson
and the coast. The lights on the Fairhaven shore were easy to see, as was this
year’s barge. Other boats got closer, right up to the perimeter that Belport’s
Coast Guard would allow.

“It’s
because I’m adorable. Besides, I came from Boston. We practically lived and
breathed the 4th. They had boats out in Boston Harbor and on the
Charles River with fireworks. This is my element.”

“Notions of
the nation’s independence are quaint to me,” she settled the towel on the
boat’s windshield before reclining against it in her bikini.

“Well, when
you’re from Germany I can understand that. Not to mention you’re older than
this country.”

“So, again,
how did you persuade me?”

“I pointed
out that you would get to wear a bikini out here. And you thought it would be
interesting to try my crab.”

My crab pot
sat on a little induction burner with a big pot on it stuffed with the
typical crab pot fare: Dungeness crabs, corn cobs, potatoes, sausage, and my
dad’s essential spices and other ingredients.

“I still
think you bamboozled me in other ways.”

“Of
course,” I smiled.

“Hmmm. How
was that again?”

“Shh, the
fireworks are starting.” I joined her on the towel, reclining back as the
distant barge started lobbing fireworks up. They burst with the typical
blossoms of colored fire, some taking on fanciful patterns while others
rocketed in stages up and up before a multitude of bomb bursts.

I didn’t
think much about the country’s birthday. I thought about being a kid in Boston
as Dad took us to the beach or would charter a small boat in the harbor to do
this very same thing. Those memories were what made the night magical. And it’s good to share it with someone
important in my life.